Naruto: Wait, I’m Toneri?!

A grand library stretched wide, its towering shelves packed with ancient scrolls and records, meticulously maintained for generations by the Lunar Ōtsutsuki.

Despite their heritage, the Lunar Ōtsutsuki were not entirely pure.

Their bloodline had long been mixed—half Ōtsutsuki, half enhanced mortal—descendants of those who once served the Rabbit Goddess.

Yet, among them, there had never been another as close to Hamura Ōtsutsuki's purity as Toneri.

Born with the Tenseigan, a power nearing Hamura's own, yet still imperfect.

The Golden Tenseigan—a realm beyond his reach.

For now.

------------------

The camera pans downward.

A pile of books and scrolls.

At first glance, everything seems normal. Nothing unusual.

Until the perspective shifts.

Among the books, buried beneath a mess of open scrolls, lies Toneri.

Sound asleep.

One scroll draped over his face. Another serving as his blanket.

A soft snore fills the silent library.

All is peaceful—until—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

A shrill alarm clock goes off.

Toneri jerks awake, screaming, arms flailing as scrolls go flying.

For a moment, he stares blankly at the ceiling, face still half-covered by a scroll.

Then, with a tired sigh, he flops back down onto the pile.

Silence returns.

...

Just as he's about to drift off again—

His eyes snap open.

Wait.

Wasn't there something he was supposed to do?

His mind races.

Then it hits him.

"Shit!"

In a panic, he springs up, scrolls cascading around him.

One particularly heavy tome clocks him on the head.

"Ow!—No time for that!" He waves it off, scrambling to his feet.

With zero regard for the centuries-old records, he kicks scrolls aside, knocking down books in his mad rush.

"I knew I was forgetting something!"

Without bothering to clean up, Toneri dashed out of the library, phasing straight through the walls into his room.

Unlike his late clan members, he didn't need to waste time forming various hand seals just to mold and manipulate chakra.

For him, like his ancestors Hamura, the rules were different.

Just knowing the basics was enough.

An unfair world, indeed.

------------------------

The moment he landed in his room, he didn't waste a second.

With a flick of his wrist, his robes floated toward him, neatly arranging themselves onto his body.

Within mere seconds, he was fully dressed—effortlessly.

A luxury only he had.

Just as he was about to make a dramatic exit—

Grrrgle.

A deep, ominous knock—right in his stomach.

Toneri froze.

His eyes widened.

Another growl rumbled from within.

Oh.

The true enemy had arrived.

Not a celestial threat.

Not a grand battle.

Not even some secret prophecy.

Just a full-blown emergency.

His body locked up as he realized—

He needed to run.

Now.

Phase-through-walls level of urgency.

Toneri grabbed his stomach, an uncharacteristic look of panic on his face.

His feet moved on instinct.

He phased through the room, down the hallway, straight toward the bathroom.

"Wait, wait, wait—!" he gasped as he practically flew inside.

He barely made it to the toilet throne before he could finally breathe. Crisis averted.

Or so he thought.

"Toneri-dono."

He froze.

What.

Slowly—painfully slowly—he turned his head.

Standing there, holding a mop, was a cleaning puppet.

Inside his private, oversized toilet.

Toneri blinked. The puppet blinked back.

"...You've got to be kidding me."

The puppet tilted its head. "Should I return later?"

Toneri clutched his forehead. "Yes. Absolutely. Get out."

The puppet nodded, unbothered, and quietly marched out, closing the door behind it.

Toneri groaned, rubbing his face. "..."

---------------

Shisui walked towards Nakano Shrine, his mind preoccupied of what he was about to do.

Then—a sharp sting.

At first, it was nothing. A faint prick, like a mosquito bite. But then—his legs stiffened. His breath hitched.

Genjutsu? No… something else.

And then—

"I hear there's a meeting at Nakano Shrine today?"

Shisui's head snapped up. That voice. That tone. calm, calculated, suffocating.

His eyes met the lone gaze of Danzo Shimura.

Shisui forced himself to stay composed, but his heart pounded. "Given that you live in the darkness of the village, I can't say I'm surprised you know that," he said coolly. "But even then, I have to admit, part of me is dumbfounded that even my clan's secrets have reached you."

Danzo took a slow step forward. "It is simply the reality of this village."

Shisui's fists clenched. "So you're saying… you were just letting us go for the time being?"

A ghost of a smirk flickered across Danzo's lips. "You are indeed wise, Uchiha Shisui." He studied Shisui with sharp, measuring eyes. "Which is why I have a question for you."

Shisui exhaled impatiently. "I don't have a lot of time, so keep it short."

Danzo's smirk remained. "Yes, it would be… unfortunate if you missed your chance to control Fugaku with your Mangekyō Sharingan."

Shisui's breath caught. A sharp crease formed between his brows. Even that…?

Danzo continued with same stoic expression. "Do not misunderstand. I did not hear it from Hiruzen. And of course, Itachi did not leak it. One of my men looked into it."

A bead of sweat slid down Shisui's temple.

Danzo's voice was like ice. "I cannot say that manipulating Fugaku and halting the coup is a particularly good idea."

Shisui's fingers twitched, his patience thinning. "I won't know unless I—"

Danzo cut through his words like a blade. "I have survived two great wars. And I am telling you—your plan will fail."

Shisui stiffened.

Danzo's voice lowered, steady and unshaken. "Even if you succeed, even if Fugaku orders them to stop, nothing will change. The radicals will see him as weak. They will replace him. And the coup will proceed."

Shisui's stomach churned. He wanted to deny it. To insist he could change things. But… could he?

Danzo's next words were even colder. "The head can always be replaced."

Shisui's anger flared. "Don't talk like it's already decided!"

To Danzo, his defiance was nothing more than a child's tantrum.

And then—

His single eye flickered with rare intensity. "Your Mangekyō Sharingan…" he murmured. "I would be able to use it far more effectively."

Shisui's blood ran cold. "...What?"

His body—refused to move.

His instincts screamed—Run! Escape!

Danzo took a slow step forward. "Insects are fascinating creatures," he mused. "A mosquito's bite is fleeting. Barely noticeable. But a scorpion's sting… or a spider's venom…" His gaze darkened. "That can bring even the strongest shinobi to their knees."

Shisui trembled. "Wh-what did you do?"

Danzo ignored the question. Instead, he glanced past Shisui.

"Tiger Mask."

From Shisui's behind, a masked figure stepped forward—a shinobi of the Aburame clan.

Danzo tilted his head. "What are you calling yourself these days?"

A hollow voice answered. "Sugaru."

Danzo nodded slightly. "Ah, right. A man from the Aburame clan… Given how wise you are, Shisui, you need no further explanation, do you?"

Shisui gritted his teeth. "Ngh…!"

Danzo took another step. His hand reached toward Shisui's face.

"Relax. The poison won't kill you… right away." His fingers brushed the air between them. "You will live just long enough for both of your eyes to be plucked out."

Shisui's breath quickened. His heart pounded. He tried to move. He couldn't.

Danzo's fingers—mere inches away—

And then—

A hand clamped onto Danzo's wrist.

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Okay, guys, it's time to set my goals: 50 Power Stones = a new chapter. Don't forget to add this fiction to your collection!

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